


Song and Dance Man

by Kahtya Sofia (KahtyaSofia)



Series: You Can Leave Your Hat On [4]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Dancing, M/M, Plot What Plot, Singing, Suit Porn, You Can Leave The Hat On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-16
Updated: 2011-04-16
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:06:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KahtyaSofia/pseuds/Kahtya%20Sofia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter and Neal have June's house all to themselves. There is singing, dancing, and sex against a piano.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Song and Dance Man

**Author's Note:**

> While watching Inception for the thousandth time, I caught sight of Arthur's braces, peeking out from beneath his waistcoat. I realized that I have themes in my fandoms; things that reoccur usually in canon, but a few are in fanon. I decided to write 4 fics, in 4 fandoms, linked to one another by: a character that regularly wears suits, the suits include waistcoats and braces, and a character portrayed by an actor who can sing. Because I was able to locate pics of the suit-wearing-singing actors wearing hats, I decided to add that in as well. The theme in each story is the song, 'You Can Leave Your Hat On'. Because all four stories are M/M, the [Etta James version](http://youtu.be/pO5sE-38MpA) of the song is the one I wrote to.
> 
> Each of the four stories can stand alone. You can read one, or you can read all four, it's reader's choice.
> 
> The fandoms for which I wrote a story are:  
> [Torchwood  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184157)[Generation Kill](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184155)  
> [Inception  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184150)[White Collar  
> ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/184788)  
> [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=white-collar.jpg) [](http://s664.photobucket.com/albums/vv10/kahtyasofia/You%20Can%20Leave%20Your%20Hat%20On/?action=view&current=whitecollar1.jpg)

Peter stepped through the unlocked front door of June’s house. Neal had told him which room to find him in, but Peter wasn’t entirely sure what room that was, let alone where it was located. June’s house was huge. What did anyone need with this much space? No wonder she liked having Neal around, it probably made the house seem a little less empty; a little less lonely.

He realized he didn’t need to know which room Neal was in, Peter just needed to follow the music. He wove his way through the maze of rooms, the music growing louder with each step.

“Neal?” he called, but received no response. Peter was close enough now, he could identify the song. Surprise gave way to approval. He knew Neal had broad tastes in music, but he hadn’t taken him for a blues man.

Peter finally found him. Neal was in the room with the piano; the same one in which they’d had drinks the night he and Elle’d come for dinner. It was the same night Neal had surprised them all by singing, and singing _well_. Peter had been both impressed and aroused. He’d always been attracted to competence, but Neal was so very good at so many things Peter was not. It undoubtedly added to the appeal.

Neal was in the center of the room, dressed in one of his impeccable three-piece suits – including a hat – and he was dancing. Peter couldn’t help but smile. Neal was part Sinatra, part Astaire, as he performed a graceful soft-shoe. He should share this thought with Neal, watch the slow, pleased smile spread across his handsome features. But Peter didn’t want to break the spell of the moment, so he paused in the entryway just to admire.

When Neal caught sight of him, he did smile. It wasn’t the smile intended to charm; it wasn’t the smile meant to disarm a mark. It was a broad smile of pure joy and Peter realized he didn’t get to see that smile quite as often as he’d like.

He loved it when Neal dressed to the nines. Today, he wore one of his navy suits, blue and white striped shirt, with a deep garnet tie. He’d pulled the hat down over one eye and it made him look rakish. Peter liked Neal looking rakish.

“Elizabeth get off to the train alright?” Neal asked over the music.

“She did, and she sends her love,” Peter replied, putting his hands on his hips.

“Satchmo fed and watered for the night?”

“Yeees,” Peter answered guardedly.

Neal smiled again and Peter’s heart kicked up in pace.

“Dance with me?” Neal asked, holding his arms out.

“Yeah, uh, no.” Peter would much prefer to watch.

“Come on, Peter. I’ll show you how.”

“I know how to dance, thank you.”

“I’ll let you lead.”

“I’m not dancing with you, Neal.”

“Am I going to get you to loosen up and relax tonight?” Neal asked, shedding his suit coat and laying it carefully across the back of a chair.

“Who says I’m not relaxed?” Pater asked, trying his damndest to scowl. “I’m availing myself of an entertaining floor show.”

The song switched and Peter couldn’t help the wicked smile that spread across his face. It was another bluesy tune, but this one had a nasty, funky baseline. It was so unlike Neal, Peter knew the song was just for him. The heat in Neal’s eyes confirmed it.

Peter slid out of his own suit coat and settled into a comfortable, overstuffed chair. Neal was dancing again and this time, he was singing along with the song. Peter knew Neal had many, many talents and he was always full of surprises. It was the singing though, that always caught Peter off guard at the same time making desire pool hotly, low in his belly.

Neal executed a graceful slide across the floor and Peter caught sight of braces where they peaked out from beneath his waistcoat, just in the small of his back. His cock was growing harder with each note Neal sang.

Peter loosened his own tie as he watched Neal’s nimble fingers unfasten the buttons of his waistcoat. It gave Peter a better view of the braces stretched along Neal’s chest. He almost couldn’t wait to fist his hands in the elastic. Neal slid his tie from around his neck and the open buttons of his shirt let the hollow of his throat tease Peter mercilessly.

When Neal reached up and began to remove his hat, Peter made a distinct sound of displeasure. Neal froze and looked up, puzzled. Peter shook his head emphatically. It was like the song said; you can leave the hat _on_.

Neal smiled wickedly and Peter shifted in his seat. The hat stayed on.

Instead, Neal pulled his shirt free from his trousers and slowly opened the buttons. He let the parted ends hang open; giving Peter a tantalizing view of his firm chest and well defined abs. Peter spread his legs slightly, giving himself more room in trousers that, suddenly, had become too tight.

The song ended. Neal’s voice let the last note fade away. Silence settled over them comfortably. Peter liked the way Neal looked right now; disheveled and alluring. Desire burned hot in his clever blue eyes as they regarded Peter from beneath the brim of the hat.

The sight of the gleaming black piano behind Neal gave Peter an idea. He very badly wanted to see Neal pressed face down onto the elegant instrument. He wanted it badly and he wanted it _now_. Before the thought even finished forming, Peter was out of his chair.

Neal put up no resistance, letting Peter crowd against him and push him backward into the side of the piano. Peter bracketed Neal’s body with his arms, placing his hands on the varnished surface. He breathed heavily through parted lips as he watched Neal tilt his face upward the nominal amount it took to give Peter access to his mouth. Peter took what was offered.

Bringing his mouth down onto Neal’s, Peter dragged his tongue across Neal’s soft lips. He pressed inward, expecting no resistance and receiving none. Neal always tasted so exotic to Peter, like some magic combination of Russian caviar and expensive California wine. Underneath it all was Neal; warm, masculine and eager.

Peter changed the angle of the kiss, feeling the brim of Neal’s hat drag against his forehead. He licked deep into Neal’s mouth and felt the wet rub of Neal’s tongue against his own. Peter was pulled in tight against Neal’s body. He felt warm hands run up and down his back over the fabric of his shirt. He pressed his erection into the point of Neal’s hip and felt Neal’s cock rub against his hip.

Pulling back slightly, Peter slid his hands beneath Neal’s shirt. He skimmed his palms along the smooth, hard planes of Neal’s chest and belly. He felt the ripple of muscle as Neal tensed and relaxed beneath his touch.

Neal’s breath was hot against the skin of Peter’s throat as he placed wet, open mouthed kisses there. Peter leaned into the touch, wary of dislodging Neal’s hat. He ran his hands down over Neal’s trouser-clad ass and pulled their hips together. Peter felt Neal’s hardness against his own and rubbed them together through their clothes. The friction and pressure tore a moan from Neal’s throat and Peter felt it vibrate through his own body.

Burying his face in the curve of Neal’s jaw, Peter nuzzled just beneath his earlobe. He grew heady with Neal’s scent; fresh, clean, manly, with just a hint of subtle cologne. He bit Neal’s earlobe and smiled at the shudder that rolled through Neal’s body.

Peter took a step back and watched confusion cloud Neal’s eyes. He pressed his advantage and grabbed Neal’s arms, abruptly turning him to face the piano. Peter pressed his cock into Neal’s firm ass and stepped forward. Neal tried to brace himself against the side of the piano but Peter was relentless. He pushed the front of his body against the back of Neal’s, grinding him against the instrument. Neal’s hands slid against the slick surface, they found no purchase and it sent him tumbling forward onto the cool, reflective surface.

Peter leaned over, his chest coming to rest against Neal’s back. He pressed his lips to the tendon at the back of Neal’s neck, hat brim skimming over his cheek. “You know what I want from you, Neal.” Peter growled, not making it a question.

“Yes,” Neal answered roughly, breathless in his desire.

“You’ll give my apologies to June for defiling you on her piano, won’t you?” Peter bit down on the straining tendon in Neal’s neck, holding him in place when his entire body jerked in reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Neal whispered, desperation lacing his voice.

Peter ran his hands over the satin of Neal’s waistcoat. He didn’t really want to remove the beautiful garment, but it was the only way to get to skin. He tugged it over Neal’s shoulders and down his arms, tossing it aside negligently.

The braces on Neal’s back made his shoulders look broader and Peter ran his palms over the elastic appreciatively. He fingered the fasteners that held the braces to Neal’s trousers. One day, he’d use them to restrain Neal while he fucked him; just not today.

Peter slid his hands along the braces, tracing them up to Neal’s shoulders. Slowly, he pushed them down Neal’s arms until they caught at his bent elbows. That would do for now. Peter grabbed the neck of Neal’s shirt and tugged it down, baring the pale skin of his back. Leaning over, Peter dragged his tongue up the line of Neal’s spine and he groaned, deep in his throat. Peter sank his teeth into the thick muscle at the juncture of Neal’s neck and shoulder. Neal’s hips reflexively pressed backward into his own. Peter’s cock slid along the cleft of Neal’s ass. It felt fantastic, even through the layers of their clothing.

Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, Peter withdrew two items. He set them down on the piano, directly in Neal’s eye line. He watched with deep satisfaction as Neal’s eyes widened and his breath caught, for just a moment. The small lube bottle and foil-wrapped condom were meant to taunt. Neal’s desires were within his reach, but only when Peter decided to give them to him.

“Unfasten your trousers,” Peter ordered. He spoke softly but his voice seemed loud and hard in the silence of the room.

Neal complied immediately, his braces falling to his thighs when he lowered his arms. When Neal was finished, he lifted his hands again, pressing his palms to the top of the piano. Peter reached around and slid Neal’s hard cock out of his snug briefs. He stroked him, feather-light, then let Neal’s erection hang heavily in front of him. Neal moaned and pressed his forehead to the piano, bending the brim of his hat in a way he wouldn’t do if he weren’t so far gone.

Peter eased Neal’s trousers and briefs down over his hips. He kicked Neal’s legs wider apart, the spread of his thighs keeping his pants from falling any lower. Peter admired the way the dark material framed the slope and curve of Neal’s ass.

“Hand me the lube, Neal,” Peter ordered.

His movements were sluggish now, but Neal handed Peter the small bottle.

Peter ran a hand over Neal’s back, feeling the smooth, sweat-slicked skin beneath his palm. Neal arched into his touch. Each movement made the braces swing and bounce against Neal’s thighs. Peter slicked a single finger on one hand. With his other, he gripped Neal’s ass cheek and spread him slightly.

Teasingly, Peter rubbed his lubed finger against the furled opening of Neal’s body. He watched Neal tense and relax, his pink hole shifting against Peter’s finger.

Leaning his forehead against Neal’s back, Peter pressed his finger inward. He pushed steadily, sliding in inexorably until he was buried to the second knuckle. Neal hissed, his hips flexing backward into Peter’s hand. The heat of him scalding, his inner muscles alternately clutched at, and relaxed around, Peter’s finger.

Pulling his finger free, Peter slicked up two digits. “Breathe, Neal,” he whispered against sweaty skin, just before shoving both lubed fingers into Neal’s ass.

“Fuck,” Neal murmured breathlessly, pushing backward with his hips.

Peter twisted his hand, spreading the lube along the hot walls of Neal’s tight channel. He slid them out and back in a few times, enjoying Neal’s muscles clamping down on him hard. Again, Peter pulled his hand free and this time coated three fingers generously. He spread Neal’s ass cheek wide and pushed his fingers in.

Neal moaned and whispered something that sounded like Peter’s name. Pushing hard in counterpoint to the rhythm of Neal’s hips, Peter fucked his hand in and out of Neal’s ass. The muscles were loosening, the heat inside growing more intense. He ached to shove his cock inside, but Peter was enjoying watching Neal fuck himself on his hand.

Peter pulled his hand free and Neal made a sound of protest and disappointment. “Relax,” Peter soothed against the back of Neal’s neck, “I’ve got what you need.” He ran a calming hand over the tense muscles of Neal’s back. “Open the condom and hand it to me.”

Peter took out his own erection as Neal rushed to comply, his movements clumsy in his haste and his desire. He got the latex free and handed it back to Peter with a shaky hand.

“That’s good,” Peter praised, placing a kiss on Neal’s shoulder. He took the condom and rolled it onto his cock, clenching his teeth to hold off the orgasm that was threatening to build. “Lean forward,” he ordered, pushing Neal down with a hand between his shoulders. Peter watched Neal languidly splay himself across the top of the piano, preparing himself to take Peter’s cock.

Peter spread Neal wide open. He pressed his cock to the slightly swollen opening. Pushing his hips forward slowly, he watched the head of his dick slip into Neal’s hole. He heard Neal whimper softly and felt a shudder run through his body.

He wrapped his hands in the braces that swung around Neal’s thighs. With his palms encased in the thick elastic, Peter gripped Neal’s hips hard. He pulled backward on Neal’s hips even as he shoved his own hips forward. With one hard thrust, he buried himself to the hilt in Neal’s ass.

Neal’s hands scrabbled against the slick piano. With each inward thrust of Peter’s cock, he made strangled sounds and inhaled deep, sucking breaths. He had no leverage so he stayed spread out across the glossy black surface as Peter fucked him.

Releasing the braces, Peter wrapped his arms around Neal’s chest and pulled him upright. Neal’s heat against his chest was scalding. He ran his hands over the firm muscles of Neal’s torso, feeling them shift and flex beneath his palms. Peter buried his face in the sweaty hair behind Neal’s ear, just below the brim of his hat, and inhaled. He loved the way the scent of Neal’s sweat mingled with all the other scents that he always attributed to Neal.

Neal leaned his head back against Peter’s shoulder. He was beautiful like this, pressed against Peter, eyes blown wide with desire as Peter fucked him wide open. He felt Neal’s hands on his hips, gripping hard and pulling him in with each thrust. It was like he was trying to take Peter’s cock deeper.

He cradled Neal’s face with one hand, turning him for a kiss. Peter licked into Neal’s mouth, teasing his tongue. Neal moaned in frustration and chased at Peter’s tongue with his own.

When Peter pulled back, Neal opened his eyes and watched him hungrily from beneath the brim of his hat. His red, swollen mouth hung open and he grunted softly with each hard thrust of Peter’s hips.

With one hand, Peter gripped the back of Neal’s neck, careful not to dislodge his hat. He pressed Neal face down onto the piano one last time. He twisted his hand in the back of Neal’s shirt and left it there, pushed against his upper back. Peter wrapped his other hand into one of the braces again and dug his fingers harshly into the flesh of Neal’s hip. He redoubled his efforts and fucked Neal’s ass fast and hard. The slap of their flesh as it met was loud in the quiet room. It blended with each of Neal’s harsh cries.

Peter watched Neal struggle against the cock in his ass and the slick surface of the piano. He was helpless.

“Touch yourself, Neal,” Peter said, his own voice breathless to his own ears. “Get yourself off for me.”

Peter knew when Neal’s hand wrapped around himself. The muscles in his tight channel clamped down on Peter’s cock, increasing the friction and sending fireworks exploding behind his eyelids.

Neal’s cheek was pressed to the gleaming black surface. His face slid against the lacquer with each of Peter’s thrusts. His eyes were wide and sightless and his breath fogged a small area in front of his mouth each time he grunted or moaned.

Peter kept him shoved to the surface of the instrument. “Stop fucking around, Neal,” he said harshly. “I told you to make yourself come.”

On a strangled cry, Neal squeezed his eyes shut and started to come. His entire body vibrated with the force of his orgasm and his inner muscles clenched hard at Peter’s cock. Peter watched Neal’s arm work his cock furiously, stroking himself through his climax. Suddenly, he gasped harshly at the over-sensitivity, pushing his hand against the side of the piano and smearing his come.

“Good, that’s good,” Peter soothed, running his hands over Neal’s still shuddering back. “Are you ready, Neal? Time to get on your knees for me.”

Peter pulled out and Neal hissed in reaction. He helped Neal to stand upright, made sure he was steady. He wrapped both hands around Neal’s skull and pulled him in for a kiss. Peter canted his head to duck under the brim of the hat, and placed a tender kiss on Neal’s lips.

Pulling back, Peter said firmly, “On your knees, Neal.”

With shaky legs, Neal sank to his knees in front of Peter. His shirt was still open and Peter could see his chest heaved with each breath. Neal looked up at Peter from beneath the brim of his hat. Peter’s cock twitched at the sight. Neal’s pupils were blown wide, his cheekbones were flushed red and is mouth was red and swollen. The hat, the way it framed Neal’s handsome face, almost had Peter coming right then.

Neal leaned forward, ready to take Peter’s erection into his mouth. Peter stopped him, realizing he didn’t want that anymore. As nice as Neal’s mouth would feel wrapped around his dick, he decided he wanted to come on his face, framed like it was by that hat.

“Just like that,” Peter murmured, cradling Neal’s skull to hold him steady. “Stay just like that. Keep watching me.”

Peter dragged the thumb of one hand over Neal’s lower lip. With his other hand, he stroked his own cock. Immediately, he felt his orgasm rising. Electric jolts shot down his spine, pooling heat low in his belly. Pure sensation gathered in his lower back and rolled through his pelvis. Peter’s balls began to rise up toward his body and the rhythm of his hips fucking into his own fist began to falter. He watched Neal’s face, loving the way his eyes shone bright from beneath the brim of his hat.

Peter slid his thumb along Neal’s lower lip once more. This time, Neal’s tongue snaked out and licked him. Peter started to come.

Aiming the tip of his cock at Neal’s mouth, Peter shot hot, white jets of come across his face. Ropy strands landed on Neal’s lips, his cheeks and his chin. He chased them with his tongue, licking at those he could reach.

“Fuck, yeah,” Peter groaned at the sight of Neal lapping at his come and it disappearing into his reddened mouth.

When his climax passed and Peter’s muscles unclenched, he sucked in deep, shuddering breaths. His knees gave out and he sank down in front of Neal. They both knelt there, grinning stupidly at each other, trying to catch their breath. Peter couldn’t help the stupid grin he knew was spreading across his face. Neal returned the grin even as he lifted the tail of his shirt to wipe Peter’s come from his face.

“You made a mess of June’s piano,” Peter said teasingly. “You’d better clean that up before she gets home.”

“Me?” Neal asked in mock outrage. “It’s your mess to clean up.”

“How do you figure that?” Peter asked, starting to tuck himself back into his trousers.

“You’re the one who wanted to fuck against the thing,” Neal answered, still smiling. “You’re the one that made me come up against it. I was just going to climb into your lap while you were sitting in that chair.”

Peter pictured Neal sitting in his lap and riding his cock. He pictured him doing that while wearing the hat.

He smiled at Neal. “Just so long as you keep the hat on.”


End file.
